Formal Dinner
by xCaligula's Commissions
Summary: Mia gets desperate during a formal dinner. Warning: contains omorashi. Like all stories on this account, this was written on commission.


**A/N: Another commission for my most loyal customer! Kept things mostly to book canon, simply because I like those better, but the concept can be understood by fans of the movie, of course!**

After days of preparing for the event, and hours of getting ready, Princess Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo, who preferred to simply go by Mia, had arrived at the formal dinner that she had been invited to attend. Though it was not her sort of affair, as a princess, she was in no position to turn down such an invitation, and had to suffer through having her nails fixed (again), her hair properly trimmed and styled, and being stuffed into a proper dress.

It was sure to be a long night, and one where she would not have many chances to sneak off and write in her journal, her only form of entertainment at these events. She had recently been chastised by her grandmother for her frequent trips to the bathroom to write, saying that it was improper for a lady to have to excuse herself so much. Once a night was enough, if that, and anything more was only for the most dire of emergencies, not for some time alone with a notebook and pen.

She stepped out of her limo, ushered in with her grandmother and their bodyguards in tow, and went through the long and boring process of greeting and being greeted by every person of importance in the room. It was as this was happening that she began to wonder if the soda she had had before getting ready was really such a good idea.

She hadn't felt anything when she was being dressed, and after that, there had been such a rush, there was no time to even think about such a thing, but now that she had fallen into the monotonous pattern of greetings, the twinges in her bladder were able to make themselves known to her. It was a small discomfort at the moment, nothing she couldn't ignore, and she felt confident that if she just waited patiently through the greetings and a course or two of the meal, it would be fine for her to excuse herself and take care of the problem.

And after approximately twenty minutes of those boring greetings, she still felt fine about it. It wasn't as if she hadn't had to hold it in the past, through classes or princess lessons, or on dates with Michael back in the early days of their relationship, when she was still a little shy around him. She was entirely capable of waiting these things out when she had to.

~X~

As the first course was served, she noticed with delight that the staff had actually remembered her vegetarian status and left her plate free of meat. Granted, that meant that her portion was significantly smaller than everyone else's, but she didn't mind much if it meant that she didn't have to find a polite way to turn the meat down.

All was going so well that she could almost forget her little predicament that was becoming less and less little by the moment. She found herself fidgeting in her seat, trying to keep the slight movements as small as possible so as not to attract any unwanted attention. If she could just coast through another course or two, she was sure that there would be no problem with her getting up for a little bit.

But the second course (still, luckily, meat free for her) went by even slower than the first, the staff taking quite some time to clear away the original dishes, and even longer to bring the next set out. On top of that, the company present had no interested in eating hurriedly.

She soon found her focus drifting from the meal, instead only being able to feel just how desperate she was becoming. It was increasing exponentially, and each passing second made it harder and harder to control. The aches coming from her bladder were painful, and she crossed her legs at the ankles to try and relieve some of the pressure.

The third course came at last, and she decided as soon as the plates around her were empty, she would take her leave. All she had to do was make it to the end of this course, and everything would be okay. She squirmed whenever she thought nobody would notice, but nothing helped. Occasionally she would place a hand in her lap and press down, but the relief brought from that didn't last long at all.

She started to worry that she wouldn't make it. With how tight her dress was, it left no room for any further expansion of her bladder and added so much pressure that she felt that any false movements might cause it to press too hard into her and leave her soaking wet and humiliated in front of everyone.

Each passing second brought more and more agony as she tried to keep from twisting around in her chair and grabbing herself in an obvious manner. The end of this course could not come soon enough, and if only she hadn't been scolded about constantly disappearing to the bathroom with her journal! This wouldn't have even been a problem under those circumstances, but now she had to worry more about her public appearances.

She tapped her foot, grateful for the carpet that cushioned any sound it might have made, and grit her teeth. Just a few more minutes and she would be home free. She just had to last a few more minutes of this torture. Her hand shook as she picked up a fork to finish off what was left on her plate.

She watched with a scrutinizing eye as everyone else finished off their meals, and waited for what seemed like hours for the help to come around and clear the plates. Finally, she could excuse herself!

"I, uh...I'll be off to the powder room," she said, hoping that that had been the phrase she had been taught to say in such a situation. It was hard to remember with her desperation taking up so much of her focus. She wasted no time in getting up and walking off at the slow pace necessary to avoid jostling her bladder too much.

Just as she made it into an empty hallway, she was doubled over, hands pressed against the skirt of her dress, though it was so thick that this hardly made a difference. Her thighs were pressed against each other as she hobbled toward the bathroom, feeling a few dribbles leak out as she did. By the time she reached the bathroom, she was sure that there was a sizable wet patch on her panties that was only going to grow if she didn't get her dress out of the way quickly.

But the skirts were so billowy and heavy, that lifting them proved to be a problem, and once she had them up, she needed both hands to keep them up. She didn't have a hand left to pull down her panties. She was so dangerously close to wetting herself that if she didn't come up with a solution to this problem soon, that was exactly what would happen. And the pressure of the situation and pressure on her bladder made it impossible to actually try to formulate a good plan.

When another bit leaked out, this time escaping her panties and running down her leg, she realized in a panic that she would not be able to stop the rest from coming out. Giving up, she sat down on the toilet just in time for the long, hot stream of piss to jet out, soaking through her panties completely. She sighed in relief, not even caring that she was technically wetting herself because it just felt that good.

After her aching bladder was finally empty, she stood up, wondering what to do now. It seemed that she would just have to pretend like nothing had happened and hope that no one would find out. And as Mia walked back to the dinner, wet and a little uncomfortable, she realized that she really had lucked out. There was no way anyone would ever be able to tell just what had happened under her dress!


End file.
